Fall From Grace
by Mathea and Brynn
Summary: One year after the events of Final Fantasy IX, several travelers meet by chance and become entangled in each other's agendas. (In progress.)


**Fall From Grace**

  
  
  
**Chapter One**   
  
Brynn narrowed her glittering violet eyes as the rain fell down around her, filling the streets of Lindblum's theater district with mud, the cobblestones beneath her feet now slippery. A chocobo-drawn cart rattled past, the uneven wooden wheels sending up a splash of muddy water. She side-stepped the spray before she began walking again, down the winding, sloping road, further into the theater district. 

She stopped when she came to a tall clock tower, raising her eyes to the heavens and examining the face of the elaborate clock, her forest-green hood slipping down over her hair and baring her face. "Tantalus..." Pulling her hood up once more, she pushed the heavy door to the clock tower open and walked inside. It was empty, save for the large gears turning to power the clock up above.

"Lovely décor," she murmured, letting the double-banded wooden door slam shut behind her. "Nobody's home… I see. Zidane, you've left your little nest. Very well… you want to play hide and seek? We'll play." She smirked to herself in the semi-darkness, dark eyes strangely illuminated in the faint light that trickled in from outside. "Let's see what kind of toys you have…" 

As she ventured further into Tantalus' headquarters, her eyes began to adjust to the poor lighting conditions. The entire place was a royal mess, beds unmade and a layer of dust coating everything with a flat surface. It looked completely abandoned, but she knew that just couldn't be true… the local talk of Tantalus' most recent exploits was much too fresh. She sighed slightly, running a single, gloved finger along the surface of a particularly dusty table, leaving a clean streak of polished wood behind when she lifted her finger and blew the debris off. "Homey." 

She spent a few more minutes exploring, but found nothing of interest, only more dusty furniture, and a few small bags of gil. She considered, for a moment, claiming the gil for herself, but decided not to. Not out of kindness, but simply because there was no need. She had plenty of money already, and to steal a few measly bags of gil from an unattended house seemed disgustingly petty and pointless. 

Pulling her hood up over her hair once more, she left the clock tower, stepping out in the rain again, which was pouring down in thick sheets and severely impairing her vision. She pulled her hood down further to try and shield herself, but her efforts were fruitless. After bracing herself against the wind and rain, she finally reached the top of the hill, upon which rested several shops and houses, all of which made up the larger part of the theater district. She collapsed on the nearest bench, ignoring the fact that the water soaked through her pants. She sighed, resting her chin in her hands. She was now at a dead end in her "quest"... with not even the vaguest idea as to where Zidane might be.

A small cloaked figure named Mathea came clopping down the cobblestones, tucking a lock of her abundant hair behind one ear, pushing a braid and the brim of a cap similar to that of a black mage's aside to do so, followed by a somewhat smaller creature resembling a flying cat-bear. Green eyes glowing, the summoner tugged at the side of her ankle-length cloak to keep it from brushing the river-running street; she managed to whack her moogle companion in the process, which caused him to chirp in annoyance and stare indignantly at her.

"Sorry," she muttered, no guilt in her voice. "It's this cloak... too long, too unconventional, inefficient, unsuited..." and so she rambled, eventually fading into an ellipsis of trailing mutters. The moogle chirped a second time and alit on her shoulder. 

"You can't just walk around in this rain, kupo! We have work, kupo..." 

Mathea snorted loudly, but as she spoke her voice regained its low mutter. "This isn't the time for work... you can't mix poisons in the rain, stupid." She didn't seem impressed in the least at his threats of work, and wasn't about to be. Stopping a moment to admire the view over a rail, she didn't pause to acknowledge a small group of creatures not twenty feet from where she stood.

"Mathea kupo," the moogle whispered, squeaky voice managing a harshness unlike its appearance. "This is no time to stop and smell the corpses!" 

"You know, when you say the word 'corpses' you should put more emphasis on the 'cor'," Mathea drawled, uninterested in his protests to her relaxation. When he gave her a look that made her feel awful, she sighed. "Fine. Once I've finished my walk, kupo, I'll go back to that eidolons-forsaken inn and do some 'work'." 

Asper - the moogle, who was currently flitting about her head - put tiny paws on rotund hips and stuck his lower jaw forward. "You could always stay outside the city, kupo."

Mathea wasn't listening. Instead, she was walking down the cobbled street toward the group of livers, though her semi-confident walk was interrupted by one of her heeled feet caught in her cloak.

With an "oomph" and a short cry, she toppled forward, rolling a few times down the hill before finally stopping herself. She looked down at her mud-soaked self and gave a disgusted snort, then sat up and - as was customary for many mages after a fall - readjusted her hat on her head.

She gulped, feeling eyes burning into the back of her neck. No one would have seen the little woman-mage's face during her fall, if only she had been lucky. Luck, unfortunately, was rarely on her side. She had caught Brynn's attention, and the dark-haired young woman smirked as she let her eyes fall on Mathea.

"A bit clumsy, aren't we?" Brynn drawled, raising a single eyebrow at the woman who had just fallen before her. "You should be more careful. It's a bit slippery. Rain does that, you see." She was almost amused, and Brynn was very rarely amused. Her Black Mage voodoo doll tucked securely inside her cloak, she stood and approached the fallen woman. She offered her hand to the unlucky summoner, a wicked grin spread across her face. She did so love to see others humiliated, humbled or hurt. She had often been told it was a rather sick pleasure. As she offered her hand, a flash of her tail could be seen beneath her Magician's Cloak, long, slender, and sepia, resembling that of a primate.

"Mmph," Mathea answered simply, turning away from the offered hand. Chances were, if she accepted it this woman would pull it away, out of her reach. Some people liked doing that sort of thing, she mused, batting absent-mindedly at the fluttering wings of a rather annoyed moogle. "Care has nothing to do with it," she grunted, grabbing Brynn's wrist with both of her hands, giving it a swift jerk downward, and half-throwing half-pulling Brynn to the ground with her. The rain was her friend in this case, and she readjusted her witch's hat a second time.

"It's a bit slippery. Rain does that, you see," she muttered.

Brynn gasped as Mathea pulled at her and she hit the ground hard, her cloak, not to mention the rest of her clothing, becoming soaked through with mud. Some of the sullied water splashed up into her face, leaving faint stains on her cheeks. She attempted to rub her eyes dry with the back of her gloved hand, wrenching her other wrist away from Mathea.

"You little wench," she hissed angrily, bristling. Her tail flicked out from beneath her cloak again as she got to her knees and delivered a hard slap to Mathea's graying face.

Mathea winced slightly at the feeling of the attack, biting back a cry with some difficulty. Knowing it would leave a bruise, she muttered some summoner curse behind tightly-closed lips and, splashing slightly in the mud, grunted and managed to land a slightly off-target punch to Brynn's abdomen. Noticing the tail, a torch went alight in her head, and before Brynn could execute a counterblow she lunged for the tawny appendage and yanked it determinedly.

Asper, protesting against the battle, flitted in futility about the two women, tugging at their cloaks in vain. His tiny moogle-self wasn't proving very useful in this situation, unfortunately.

Brynn let out a loud cry of pain as Mathea yanked on her tail, and, using her own two hands to pull her tail from the summoner's grasp, stumbled backwards, sending up another spray of muddy water. Doing her best to avoid slipping, she chanted something in a language long forgotten, resulting in a bright, forked bolt of lightning striking the very wet Mathea.

Mathea didn't attempt to dodge the surge, knowing the water would cause her to be shocked in any case; a short cry accompanied her slump to the ground, making her look more a large lump of cloth and mage's hat than anything else. She had to make a point of chewing her lip rather roughly to keep from sobbing out loud, though at this point it didn't quite seem to matter.

Footsteps, slightly staggered in their rhythm, announced Brynn's presence behind her, though before she had a chance to make a snide comment about Mathea's situation (which she was certain she would have done), Mathea was back on her feet. Still dizzy, and somewhat crisp around the edges, the little summoner jump-lunged at Brynn - this time, with her gloves left discarded on the ground. Small ashen hands flailed, and managed - with some difficulty - to land on Brynn's face.

The moogle, having decided to sit somewhere nearby and quite out of reach, gave a small cheer. Obviously he knew there was some advantage to this position, and though to any other moogle it would have seemed awkward, he knew it was quite lucky. Applauding, he waited for the results.

Brynn's temper flared as both of Mathea's tiny fists landed on either side of her face. Pushing her wet hair away from her face, she hurled another lightning bolt at the summoner, then following it up with a physical blow to the stomach. Both women were looking quite pathetic by now, and Brynn, exhausted, slumped to the ground, landing her bottom in a particularly deep puddle. "Truce?" she asked wearily, raising a single eyebrow at the deep-fried Mathea.

Groaning deeply, Mathea rolled over into a puddle, losing her mage's hat as she did. She hadn't felt this tired in quite a while, and was cooked to boot. Feeling the need to throw up, she got up with some trouble and staggered, turning in circles twice, slumped over the railing of the hill road and retched onto the world below.

It only took a minute for Mathea to stagger back to Brynn and fall to her knees yet again, gasping for breath. "T-t.... t-truce," she stammered, looking slightly more than a little out-of-it. Looking slightly purple, she asked, "Do you think p-perhaps w-we could... g-get a drink o-or something? I'm f-feeling... urp... ready f-for o-one..." Feeling her lunch unsettle in her stomach again, she gasped and ran over to the rail, adding to the collection of stomach sickness below.

Brynn frowned and stumbled to her feet, staggering over to the railing to join Mathea. Peering over the edge, she cringed at the sight of the puddle of sickness on the ground far below. "Yes, drinks... and maybe something to settle your stomach, too," she advised, winded. They were both soaked through completely, she noted, the chill from the rain starting to settle in. "Maybe we can find someplace to warm up..."

Mathea sighed. "It's not the cold that bothers me, far from it. It's the wet and the sick." Gulping something down, she looked to Asper and motioned in some sort of strange sign language that she was going. Repeat, going.

"You don't need to sign, idiot," Asper muttered, alighting on her shoulder and crossing his tiny arms. "I'm sure she's heard a talking moogle before."

"Uh, right," Mathea said, pressing her lips into a thin line. She looked back to Brynn. "I'll buy the drinks if you lead the way to a tavern."

Brynn raised an eyebrow at Asper briefly, then nodded to Mathea, pleased with the prospect of a free drink. "Fair enough," she said, and began to push her way through the heavy rain, letting the dim glow of the street lights guide her. She fumbled her way to the aircab station and climbed into the waiting car, motioning for Mathea to follow. They rode in silence, but quickly arrived in the business district of Lindblum, where the streets were literally lined with taverns, inns, restaurants, and shops.

After leaving the aircab station, she led Mathea across the road and to a tall building with a red, wooden door, the wooden sign above faded and swinging in the wind, threatening to fall off its hinges. Pushing the door open, Brynn gladly welcomed the dry warmth she found inside the tavern, which was crowded with weary travelers and hungry locals alike.

Mathea staggered forward into the tavern, still looking on the green side, and removing the hood of her cloak with a bone-soaked sigh. The heat made her shiver; the feeling of the bustling life in the tavern sent an electric tingle, reminiscent of the storm outside, through her ears and nose. With a loud, dry sneeze, she didn't have the chance to clear her vision of tears before bumping into one of the strangest people she had ever seen.

The bump was gentle, and the voice of the person that helped her after her fall was kind, but Mathea was still in a bad mood. She looked up at the strange person, incredulous; she could barely tell whether this was a man or a woman, and was at a loss for what to address them by. A floating mane of bordeaux hair greeted her when she was pulled up, and a pair of cheery crimson eyes.

"You okay, small one?" the voice inquired, a smile quirking at the corners of glossed lips. The person frowned. "Hey, are you alright? You're looking under the weather."

Mathea didn't answer. Woozy, not because of the fight anymore, but because of the overwhelming heat and light, she sighed in exhaustion and sat herself at one of the barstools. The person sat next to her somewhat hastily, and asked, "Any particular pref'rence of drink? I've got some medicine for sickness in my bag somewhere... you order, I'll get the curative."

Mathea looked incredulous. Whoever this person was, they were starting to bother her. She ordered an ether - shaken, with ice - and, as she swirled the magical curative-turned-beverage, stared down at the tall redhaired thing rooting around in its backpack. "Wh... what are you doing?" she murmured, clueless as to this person's friendliness.

"What does it look like? I'm gettin' you some medicine. Y'look like you need it." With a grin, the person surfaced with a glass, bulbish bottle corked tightly and filled with a gorgeous emerald liquid. Even from where she was sitting Mathea could smell... what was that smell... mint leaves and lime?

Mathea snapped out of it slightly as she noticed the person carefully pouring a small measure of green mint-lime cordial into her ether. "E-er... wh-who are you?" Unsure of what she should say, she accepted the drink as it was cheerfully shoved into her hands and immediately took a sip. Not only did it make her feel better almost instantly, but it tasted marvelous. She drank with relish.

The person grinned. "I'm Kaadyn. Traveler, mostly. Hey, wait, I left your beautiful friend waiting! How callous," he exclaimed, smiling brightly and walking over to Brynn. "I apologize, Miss. Your friend was in need of some serious help, there." Grinning widely at Brynn, he bowed. "Come on, sit a while. I just got here and am about to buy myself - and it seems you, as well - a drink." With that, he led Brynn (with slight insistence) over to the place where Mathea sat, and seated her in the stool beside his own. He grinned.

Brynn was stunned, but allowed herself to be shown to the stool on the other side of the seat this queer, red-headed stranger now occupied. She raised her eyebrows and leaned forward slightly to look down the bar at Mathea and then shrugged, discreetly wringing the water out of her long, dark hair and onto the already slightly damp, wooden floor. The barkeep walked by and she ordered whiskey, something that drew a few alarmed looks from the people around them. Usually, a woman such as herself ordered something much lighter. She ignored them, and, shedding her cloak, which was soaked-through, turned to the stranger behind her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch your name..." Brynn began, wiping a bit of water away from her eyes.

"Kaadyn," the tall neither man, nor woman answered, tucking a lock of wispy wine-tinted hair behind his ear. With a grin, he took a sip of a frosty drink he had ordered just now, and bowed slightly in his seat. "Kaadyn Valvalis. I'm a chemist." He beamed and took another sip, looking quite happy for no apparent reason. "Now, let me guess... you look like a Bethany."

He was met with an annoyed shake of a rather wet head. He thought to himself slightly and asked, "Briony?" Another negative response. "Braedyn?" By now, she was looking somewhat annoyed, and shook her head a last time before he gave a small 'ah' and nodded. "I know what you are. You're definitely a Brynn."

Brynn had been prepared to shake her head yet again, but her violet eyes widened slightly when he guessed correctly. "... that's right. Good guess. Especially since it's not an especially common name," she said coolly, taking a long swig of her drink. "Brynn Tribal, mercenary. My friend, here, is..." She paused and canted her head to the side briefly, furrowing her eyebrows together as she peered at Mathea. "Come to think of it, I don't know her name."

Mathea finished her drink and blinked at the pair sitting next to her. Before she could mention her name, however, Kaadyn piped up a second time. "Lemme guess - your name is Wilhelmina. She looks like one, you know."

The little summoner stared widely at Kaadyn, and a look of surprise combined with exasperation appeared on her face. Kaadyn chuckled sheepishly, his eyes widening too. "You guessed wrong, pretty boy," Mathea muttered, staring at a spot between his eyes. Kaadyn laughed.

"I guess I did. What's your name, then?"

Mathea muttered something and went back to her nonexistent drink. The red-haired of the three blinked. "Pardon me?"

The cloaked, still somewhat damp woman gave an "urgh" noise and shouted, "MATHEA!" at the top of her lungs.

This caused the tavern to freeze briefly. For a second, all motion and chatter ceased as the hoards of living folks stared at her in as much incredulity as she had stared at Kaadyn not a minute before. The small woman, who seemed capable of nothing more than mutters and whispers, was huffing slightly now, looking much more dangerous than she had thirty seconds ago. Green eyes wide, she looked on edge and high-strung, as though a touch would be enough to send her screaming. Her figure pulsed with a brief light, but she soon went back to her empty glass, and the tavern did as well. Life resumed.

Kaadyn gulped, his cheeks turning a vivid shade of rose. "S-sorry." Going back to Brynn and his beverage, he muttered to his new acquaintance, "Is she always like this?"

"Judging by the few brief minutes I've known her, yes," Brynn replied, her dark hair beginning to air out and frizz slightly, due to the dampness. She drank deep from her mug before stifling a yawn, surprised when she realized how tired she was. "We're not really friends. We just beat each other up in the road," she explained, a smug smirk spreading across her face. "I won."

Kaadyn grinned hugely, and looked to Mathea, who was still brooding. Turning to Brynn, he removed a small pot from a pocket, unscrewed the lid and applied a little bit of lip gloss; his drink had caused the gloss to fade, so reapplication was in order. "Glad you won; she seems to deserve getting her butt kicked." Raising a hand to order another drink, he seemed amused by Brynn and Mathea's relationship. "So you're friends, but became friends by fighting? How does that work?"

"Again, I wouldn't exactly say we're friends," Brynn corrected him, taking another long swig of her drink before tucking her still-damp, now frizzing hair behind her ears. "Perhaps acquaintances. We've only called a truce. For now."

Kaadyn grinned and nodded. "I get it now. Makes sense." Looking her over in curiosity, he canted his head and asked, "What is it that you do?"

He noted her hair with a duly observant eye, and fished a comb from somewhere inside his over-garment. Standing and ignoring her odd looks, he stood behind her and began combing the water out of her hair. "Don't shoo me, I understand the problems of wet hair," he said, with an exasperated sigh at the end.

Brynn was surprised when Kaadyn began combing through her hair and made an attempt to bat his hands away, but only to be rebuked by the red-head, who quickly rapped the comb against her knuckles. She sighed and took another swig of the drink in her mug, resigned to let him do as he wished with her hair. "I do whatever I'm asked to," she explained, tone cool and even. "I'm a mercenary. I have to go where the money is. If I'm hired to steal or murder or be a generic soldier, I do it. It's decent money."

"Mmm, isn't that nice?" Kaadyn mused, a silly smile plastered across his features. He finished up combing Brynn's hair, then tied it with a black lace ribbon he had fished out from gods-only knew where; he stood back to admire his work, smiled briefly, and sat back down. Ordering another of his tall, frosty drinks, he mused, "You have lovely hair, by the by."

Mathea was finishing her third iced ether on Kaadyn's right. Having developed an addiction for the magical restorative some months back, the effect ether had on her was more mind-boggling than alcohol's. The overdose of magic to her system was intoxicating, and she felt her body tingle all over with the feeling of the magic coursing throughout it. Little globes of cold magic flew in random directions every time she took a sip of her drink, and her figure glowed a very slight blue. Kaadyn took the opportunity to stare.

He nudged Brynn with his elbow. "Hey, Brynn. I think she's just about had one too many. Whatcha think?"

Brynn raised an eyebrow at the glowing Mathea, flinching when Kaadyn nudged her ribcage with his elbow. "I think it's time to cut her off." Leaning forward, she snatched what remained of the iced ether away from Mathea, dropping it behind the bar and ignoring the sound of shattering glass that followed only a second later. "That's enough for you, Mathea."

Mathea muttered something under her breath and swatted at Brynn, leaving harmless patterns of frost where she brushed her hands. Tossing a small handful of gil onto the bar, muttering something about a room, and getting a key tossed at her in reply, she trooped up the stairs and moved to her door, slamming it behind her.

Kaadyn blinked his large eyes and smiled sleepily. "Mmm, not in a good mood, is she?"

"It would appear not," Brynn muttered, using her thumb to rub the bit of frost off her face. She, too, dropped a few bits of gil onto the counter for the barkeep before alighting from her stool. "Well. Thank you for your company, but I need to get to bed. Need to find a way out of this godforsaken town tomorrow. The borders are locked down. I was able to get in all right, because I have citizenship, but getting out isn't quite so easy."

Kaadyn gave a charming, inquisitive smile. "Where are you staying tonight? I've got a nice room here at the inn - if you were planning on sharing a room with that Mathea girl, I'd likely advise against it," he said, grinning in amusement at her storm out of the room. He then lowered his eyes and his voice, doing his best to be subtle and inconspicuous. "If you... need passage out of Lindblum, you could stay here tonight and I could find you a way out of here tomorrow. I have, er, friends," he muttered, and grinned slightly.

"Actually, I already have an apartment of sorts here. Lindblum is a good place to acquire mercenary work, I stay here when I'm not on a job," Brynn corrected, pulling her hood up, but she stopped when she heard him mention "friends." "Friends? What do you mean, friends? Tell me about these friends." She sat down again and looked at him, intent.

"Er, well, um, I have a..." he coughed and made a face, "... _relationship_ with one of them." Grinning sheepishly, he lowered his voice a second time. "They run a smuggling business - they could easily get us out of here, for the right price." Twirling a lock of burgundy hair around a long finger, he smiled and crossed one ankle behind the other.

"I've got money," Brynn said quietly, her violet eyes narrowed into glittering slits. She leaned forward on her barstool, slightly annoyed by Kaadyn's sheepish but playful expression. "I'll pay them whatever they ask for. I just need to get to Daguerreo. It's vital."


End file.
